


Partners

by der_tanzer



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-31
Updated: 2012-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-13 05:40:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/der_tanzer/pseuds/der_tanzer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jesse wants out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Partners

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during5:7, _Say My Name_. Warnings for physical rape and mindfuck.

“Because you are my _partner_ ,” Walt said slowly. “All the rest of these people—they’re just business. But not you and me. We _chose_ each other, Jesse. You _agreed_ to this. You do _not_ get to leave.”

Jesse threw a furtive glance at the overhead door. He knew it was closed, it was always closed, and he knew he wouldn’t have time to get it open before Walt stopped him. He hated this space. People were always watching, they couldn’t cook here, and worst of all there was only one way out. Jesse wasn’t usually afraid of Walt, at least not in a way he had to admit to himself, but he was afraid now. When he thought about this day later, and he would, he’d realize that when he was afraid, it was usually in this cramped storage space.

“Dude, we’re not married, okay? You want a partner for life or whatever, why don’t you go home and make up with your wife?”

“My _wife_ is not part of this. She’s not my _partner_. She belongs to me. _You_ are my partner and you’re not going anywhere.”

“Whatever,” Jesse mumbled, dropping his eyes again. “We had a deal, Mr. White. I get my money and I go. I _told_ you, I ain’t killing any more _kids_. That was never supposed to be part of this, either.” He turned toward the door, knowing it was probably futile, and still tried to fight when Walter grabbed him from behind. Arms pinned, he kicked and stomped with heavy boots, whipping his head back aiming for Walt’s nose. But Jesse was just a little too tall and Walt a little too heavy. 

They crashed into an empty pesticide barrel and sent it rolling but through some miracle Walt stayed on his feet. He propelled Jesse into a low shelf, knocking the air out of him, and pinning him there as he struggled for breath.

“Get off me, bitch,” Jesse gasped. 

“Shut up. You’re going to listen to me now. _You. Are. My. Partner_. We do this _together_. Understand?”

“You don’t need me,” he panted. “You’re the fucking cook, Mr. White. My meth’s shit, remember?”

“That’s not true,” Walter told him without relenting. “You’re every bit as good as I am and I _do_ need you. I need _you_.” Only then did he let go, shifting his grip to the edge of the shelf but still using his body to control Jesse’s. Jesse took a breath and turned around, ready to fight again.

“I. Want. Out,” he said simply, the only real argument he had.  


“You want _shit_. That’s what your life is without me. That’s what it was before and that’s what it’ll be if you walk out that door right now. Jesse, you need me as much as I need you and you know it.”

“What I _know_ , Mr. White, is that I never had to kill anyone _before_.”

“And you won’t have to again, I promise. That’s _over_ , Jesse. It—it won’t happen again.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he said defiantly, his other, less real argument. Walter paled in anger and Jesse, truly frightened now, brought his arms up and tried to push him away. If the angle had been different he might have succeeded, but he was still bent back over the shelf and Walter was too close. He knew Walt would hit him now, release the shelf with his right hand and pull back to swing, and that would be his chance to escape. He held still and waited for the rage to explode, knowing he would only have a second.

But that second never came. Instead of swinging, Walt grabbed him around the waist and slammed his mouth down on Jesse’s, forcing it open, shoving his tongue inside and daring him to bite. Jesse tried to pull away and then Walter was turning him around again. Jesse grabbed the shelf for leverage and stomped on Walt’s foot but it was too late. Walter was past feeling pain as he yanked down Jesse’s baggy jeans and pinned him with one arm across his back. 

“Get off me, bitch,” Jesse cried, knowing it didn’t matter. “Jesus, I’ll—I’ll stay. Just let me _go_.”

“You go when I say,” Walt told him, his voice low and deadly. He spit on his fingers and Jesse shouted in dismay when they touched him. He wasn’t just feeling pain, his jacked up nerves amplified it beyond endurance and he screamed as Walt’s hard flesh shoved into him. The sound echoed in the closed metal space, a howl of rage and pain that might have made a lesser man hesitate. Walter only thrust harder.

“Who’s the bitch now, Jesse? Tell me, who’s the bitch?”

“I am,” he sobbed brokenly. “I’m the bitch. Now let me go.”

But Walt wasn’t done yet. He pounded into the crying, heaving man beneath him, bringing himself to the brink of orgasm as the blood ran down Jesse’s legs.

“And _whose_ bitch are you?”

He gasped out an unintelligible sound and Walt dug his elbow into Jesse’s spine.

“I _said_ , whose bitch _are_ you?”

“Yours, alright? I’m _your_ bitch,” he groaned. Walter drove deep, one final unbearable thrust, and came with a shudder of great satisfaction.

“Don’t forget it,” he said, pulling out roughly and zipping his fly. “We’re partners, Jesse. Understand?”

“Yeah,” Jesse said softly, picking up a stray rag off the shelf to clean himself up. Walter turned his back, a dreamy expression on his face, and studied the huge equipment crates.

“We’re going to own this country, Jesse. Do you know that? Do you know how _big_ that is?”

Jesse, who hadn’t done any better in geography than he had in chemistry, didn’t. He pulled up his pants and buttoned his fly with shaking hands. He didn’t care about the size of the country or the size of their trade. Now that he didn’t use anymore, cooking was the only thing that mattered.

Almost.

“Mr. White?” he whispered as Walter started for the door.

“Yes, Jesse?”

“Did you mean it? What—what you said…just now?”

“About the market? Of course. The whole country is about to be ours.”

“About _us_ , Mr. White.” He stared straight at Walter, his eyes wet and bulging in his dead-pale face. “Partners forever? You mean that? You’re not gonna change your mind and have me shot next week?”

“Of course I meant it. Nothing’s going to happen to you, Jesse. Not as long as I’m around.” Walt smiled and for a second he looked like the kindly teacher Jesse had met a year ago, when he was just an ignorant junkie waiting to age out of school. But that Walter was dead now, just as surely as if the cancer had killed him.

Jesse nodded and Walter said goodnight, finally rolling up the big door. He jumped lightly off the loading dock and crossed the parking lot to his car, leaving Jesse standing there alone. He would come back tomorrow, though. There was meth to be made and they were partners. Walter would always come back.

Jesse stood there for a very long time.


End file.
